


oh, for fuck's sake, of course i love you, idiot

by lisinwonderland



Series: maybe if men talked about their feelings, everything would be less complicated [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Screen Reader Compatible, Screen Reader Friendly, Tormund's pov, but it's just cursing, jon is an oblivious little shit, mature rating because its better to be safe than sorry, no beta we die like men, no britpicked either, this fic has been giving me hell, tormund just wants to kiss him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:42:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29706312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisinwonderland/pseuds/lisinwonderland
Summary: When Tormund woke up, the sight before him almost made him pinch himself to confirm he wasn't dreaming.-In which they finally talk and clear the air. (Jon's still an insecure idiot, but at least, he's Tormund's idiot now.)
Relationships: Tormund Giantsbane/Jon Snow
Series: maybe if men talked about their feelings, everything would be less complicated [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2183139
Comments: 9
Kudos: 27





	oh, for fuck's sake, of course i love you, idiot

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this just got out of my hands.  
> I don't know what I was expecting, but writing this was a rollercoaster and an absolute nightmare. I've been slaving away at this thing for the last two weeks, so here goes nothing. I hope you guys enjoy it!! ❤️❤️

When Tormund woke up, the sight before him almost made him pinch himself to confirm he wasn't dreaming.

Jon looked ethereal, what with the way the sun rays were shining on his face, his eyes closed and his full, pretty lips curved into a pout. Jon Snow was the most beautiful man he had ever laid his eyes on. The ginger sighed a bit, and he licked his lips, a sudden urge to kiss the sleeping man taking over his thoughts, but he didn't carry on with it. Jon wouldn't appreciate being kissed in his sleep, as wouldn't anyone else.

He finally came to his senses and made to untangle himself from the mess of limbs they made, but was stopped by the black haired man. Jon clung to him like a little octopus, and Tormund couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle.

"C'mon, sleepyhead. Time to wake up" Tormund said, all the while looking at Jon with the same awe he showed when he looked at the sun and the moon and all the stars together. 

"Fiv' more minutes" Jon answered, sleep coating his tongue, and buried his face in Tormund's neck.

The older man shivered slightly, Jon's cold nose pressed against him, and the aforementioned giggled a bit because of that. 

Tormund sighed again. As if he could ever deny his boy of something. — _ **His** boy?? Since when?? They haven't even talked!_— Right...

"We need to talk, sweet thing."

Tormund felt how Jon stiffened immediately after he said those words. The man started to regret saying that, but by that moment, Jon was already almost across the bed, looking at him with a small frown. He saw Jon swallow, and knew that the thoughts running around the boy's head were all negative.

"Yeah?" That was the only thing Jon said, as if his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth.

Tormund nodded, and smiled at the man to reassure him that it was nothing bad.

"Aye. But first we should have breakfast. I'm pretty sure you ought to be starving, as am I." Tormund smiled once again at Jon, his face softening even more at the confused look the younger man was giving him. He made to stand, but changed his mind at the last minute and leaned across the bed to press a light kiss against Jon's cheek. Tormund felt the fluttering of his lashes against his own skin, as close as they were, and couldn't help the tendrils of hope that were taking root in his stomach. "I'm going to the bathroom, but I'll make breakfast, aye?" Tormund murmured huskily against Jon's ear, and the boy shivered slightly, which made the ginger man smile.

When they got away from each other, Jon was looking at him dazedly, and nodded slowly.

"Y—Yeah, okay" He said, his voice barely audible.

"C'mon, smile a bit, pretty boy, I'm not taking you to the slaughter house" Tormund whispered, and watched as a blush spread delightfully from Jon's neck all the way to his ears. The corners of the younger man curved slightly upwards, and Tormund finally got up from the bed. "See you in a minute, sweet thing."

Tormund went to the bathroom, a bright smile painted in his mouth, brushed his teeth and took a piss, making sure he opened the bathroom's door before he flushed so Jon could hear that he was finished.

Then he made his way to the kitchen, in nothing but the underwear he had woken up in, aware of the message it could send to Jon. He set to making a carafe of coffee and started making dough for the pancakes. Jon had a bit of a sweet tooth, and he wanted to see the bright light in his eyes when he saw Tormund had made pancakes for him.

Finally, Jon finished whatever he was doing in his room and came over to the kitchen, dressed in a shirt that was way too big for him — _Tormund actually thinks it may be his_?— and pajama pants, probably guided by the food's smell, Ghost hot on his heels. When he saw the both of them, he couldn't help but smile softly, taking one pancake from the pile and giving it to Ghost, who took it between his jaws without wasting a second and ran back to the living room, most probably to his bed.

Jon went to the coffee maker, his eyes averted when he saw Tormund was in his underwear, and served the coffee into two mugs. He presented one to Tormund and sipped from the other, a hot blush on his cheeks. His eyes finally settled on Tormund's form. The bigger man could feel the weight of his gaze on himself.

"So..." Jon started, but Tormund tutted at him.

He directed his own, amused look at the smaller man, and nodded to the table and chair. Jon took the hint and took a seat. Tormund, in turn, took the food to the table along with his own mug and sat in front of his friend.

Jon started eating, and Tormund guessed it was more so he had something to do with his hands and to calm his nerves than actual hunger.

The big man looked at Jon and sipped at his coffee, trying not to smile at the smaller man's nervousness. 

As if he had something to fear.

As if Tormund had not been crushing on him ever since they met.

"Jon."

The black haired man looked at him, his eyes wide with surprise. A bit of caramel was stuck on his lower lip, and Tormund felt the sudden urge to wipe it off with his thumb, but he refrained himself.

"How long have we known each other?" The ginger man asked. He knew the answer, but messing with Jon was a bit fun, to be completely honest.

"Like... Almost 6 years already?" Jon answered, his brows furrowed in confusion. He wiped the caramel off his mouth with a swipe of his thumb "What's this abou—?"

"And how long have you liked me?" He went straight to business, his voice gruff and raw.

Jon gasped, his skin getting a sickly paleness to it.

Shit.

So maybe he hadn't planned this as well as he would've wished.

Jon stood from the chair abruptly, knocking it to the floor, and got further from him. His brown eyes were wide open, absolute terror swimming in them, and Tormund cursed himself for the way he'd handled the situation. Clearly, Jon thought Tormund was going to reject him — _or something worse that Tormund didn't want to even think about_ —.

"Shit, Jon. I'm sorry to have brought this up like this. I honestly didn't think you would react like this, given what happened yesterday and this morning."

Some of the tension left Jon's body, but he stood still, looking at Tormund and at the kitchen's door like a trapped animal.

Tormund growled frustratedly, and took his mug to down the rest of his coffee. Once he finished it, he looked at Jon.

"Can we have an actual conversation, like normal human beings, or are you just going to avoid me for the rest of your life now?" Tormund asked, an edge of vulnerability in his voice.

Slowly, Jon leaned down and picked up the chair. He sat down heavily and leaned on the back, the food forgotten now.

"Okay..." The younger man conceded.

"So how long have you liked me and why haven't you ever said anything, you bumbling idiot?"

"What would you have wanted me to say, huh!?" Jon shouted angrily, the fire that usually lit up in his eyes burning bright. “ _'Hey, Tormund, you are my best friend, and I'm maybe in love with you, want some popcorn?'_ You would've punched me in the face!"

Tormund actually felt a bit hurt at that last assumption. When had he ever acted as if he would punch someone just because of their sexual orientation? He looked at the table, not wanting Jon to see the pain in his gaze.

"Right. Because I have hit a lot of people just because they are not heterosexual..." For the gods' sake, he himself wasn't even heterosexual. This wasn't going the way he'd thought of in the slightest. 

He saw, from the corner of his eyes, as Jon calmed slightly down, shame shining in his eyes now.

"That's not... I'm sorry. Of course I know you wouldn't hurt me, and certainly not because of something like that, I just—. I guess I just didn't want to lose you. I didn't want you to look at me with pity in your eyes just because you couldn't return my affections. I—." Tormund looked up, sensing the anguish in Jon's voice. "I figured ' _If I get to be his friend, his best friend, then that's all that matters_ '. Nothing else matters more to me than your unconditional friendship, Tor. It's my most sacred possession." Jon finished. Tormund actually wanted to punch him in the face now. So he had been holding back because he thought Tormund would cast him aside, look at him with pity? He was more of an idiot than he thought.

"You are such an idiot, Jon Snow. You truly know nothing." Tormund said, standing up and taking his mug to refill it with more coffee. He could sense Jon's confusion radiating off his body even from here.

"Wha—?"

Tormund turned around, propping himself against the counter, and pinned Jon with his gaze.

"I've been flirting with you for 5 eternal years, you moron. I've liked you for almost as long as I've known you. Do you really think I'm just _that_ affectionate with anyone?"

Jon's brows rose, whether in shock or surprise, Tormund didn't really know. It would have been funny in another situation, but honestly, the ginger man was just frustrated at this point.

"But. You were with Brienne for a year and a half... And before her, it was Birgit..."

Tormund sighed, his frustration sky rocketing.

"Well, you clearly weren't interested! What would you have wanted me to do?" Tormund asked, almost shouting.

"I didn't even know you liked me!"

He took a deep breath, calming himself a bit, and looked at Jon, who was staring at him with tears in his eyes. Why did this man have to make everything so complicated?

"I haven't—!" Jon shut his mouth and started again, this time lowering his voice. "I haven't even thought of another person since I realised I liked you... I just... Couldn't..." Jon confessed, slightly embarrassed, and Tormund could have just kissed him right at that moment with how cute and vulnerable he looked. "You haven't done anything wrong by being with Brienne, or Birgit, I'm not... Reproaching you. I just." Jon's gaze directed itself to the floor. "I didn't even know you liked men, and I certainly didn't know that you liked me."

A blush was spreading quickly through his neck and cheeks, and it took all of Tormund's strength not to go and hug the boy with all his might. He scoffed instead.

" _Du er så jævla uvitende, liten kråke¹_. I've been checking you out ever since you got through that door on your first year here" Tormund said, a fond look directed at the other man.

Jon's man apple bobbed in his throat, a sign of his dry swallowing.

"Y—You have…?" The man asked, fidgeting in place.

Tormund left his mug on the counter and stalked over to where Jon was, his eyes almost swallowed by the black of his pupils. Jon walked backwards, his eyes never once leaving Tormund's, until his back was colliding with the table, the ginger towering over him. The small man swallowed again, his chest lifting with his quick intake of breath. Tormund's own breath was accelerating slightly in response to Jon's reaction.

Finally, Tormund pressed against the other, placing himself between his friend's legs, one of his hands instinctively going to Jon's hips, while the other went to his cheek. His eyes were drawn to Jon's mouth, and the man licked his lips, parting them almost involuntarily. He couldn't help placing his thumb against the smaller man's bottom lip, their synchronising breaths coming quicker every time either of them moved. The black haired man put his hands on Tormund's torso, no doubt feeling how Tormund's own heart was pounding against his ribcage, and looked at him with his pupils blown wide, their foreheads barely touching.

"Fuck, Snow" Tormund growled against Jon's mouth, and he felt something break inside him at Jon's small whimper. "Can I kiss you? 'Cause I feel like I'm going to die if I don't fucking taste you…" He whispered hoarsely, and Jon's only answer was to pull him in by the elastic of his underwear.

Their lips crashed together like waves at shore, Tormund's thumb still on his bottom one, opening Jon's mouth to his assault.

Jon let out a soft moan that made all of his blood travel south, and he put his hands on the man's thighs, lifting him up and onto the table. He wedged himself between his friend's — _Was he still just a friend, though?_ — legs, and couldn't help the groan that escaped his throat when his semi-hard on brushed against Jon's. Tormund swept his tongue across the man's bottom lip, and intertwined it with his boy's tongue. Jon hoisted one of his legs higher up on Tormund's waist and pressed his heel against the bigger man's arse to pull him even closer. Tormund broke the kiss, a harsh breath coming out of his mouth, and he set his forehead against his boy's, his eyes closed.

Jon sighed, his breath colliding against his mouth, his arms coming up to rest on Tormund's shoulders.

"You can't even imagine how much time I've spent picturing our first kiss in my head, and not one of those imaginary situations could've prepared me for this." The small man whispered, his lips brushing against Tormund's with every word.

"I could say the same, my little crow."

And for the first time in almost a day, he could feel a soft and genuine smile forming in his boy's mouth.

Tormund opened his eyes and the gaze he directed to him was full of fondness and wonder.

"Does this mean that you want to be my boyfriend?" Jon asked and Tormund arched one of his brows, his expression blank.

"Wow. What gave it away, Jon? Was it the confession, the kiss, or my cock literally straining against my boxers?"

Jon laughed, his eyes lightning up, and wrapped his arms more comfortably around his neck. Tormund's own hands went to his lower back, enjoying being so close to him without having to pretend that he's doing it to ' _make Brienne jealous_ '.

Then, seriousness overtook the smaller man's expression again.

"I know it's too soon, but… well, I guess... I've actually been feeling this way for years so it shouldn't be a surprise, right? And," Jon was starting to ramble, but Tormund let him continue because it was so fun to watch. "I mean, if… if you don't feel the same yet… or ever! Then that's okay, but… I guess what I mean to say is…"

"I fucking love you, you dumb idiot." Tormund said, a bright and amused smile on his face, his gaze reflecting the fondness he was feeling towards his boy while his heart did a somersault in his chest at Jon's fumbling confession.

Jon's shy smile lit up the entire room.

Actually, Jon's face while he smiled would be enough to start a war someday, with how pretty he looked. But for now, he was all his.

"I love you too, Tor."

**Author's Note:**

> Du er så jævla uvitende, liten kråke¹: You are so fucking oblivious, little crow.


End file.
